


Ahanu

by HomeOfTheBrave (Vicjules)



Series: Ahanu & Amir [1]
Category: The Brave (TV 2017)
Genre: Friendship, Gen, Male Friendship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-15
Updated: 2018-08-15
Packaged: 2019-06-27 23:40:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,247
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15695742
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Vicjules/pseuds/HomeOfTheBrave
Summary: McGuire and Amir share a quiet moment and learn a little about each other.





	Ahanu

**Author's Note:**

> We didn't get enough backstory on McGuire, so I built him one. I really like the friendship between Amir and McGuire, so here you go! :) Hope you enjoy!
> 
> My first fic!!! *nervous*

McGuire sat quietly atop the picnic table, looking out to the darkness in the distance. A breeze blew a chill though his body and he pulled his jacket tighter around his torso. It was 3am and he was wide awake. Couldn’t sleep to save his life. But, not for any tortured reason like nightmares. He was sore and exhausted and just couldn’t sleep.

 _‘Annoying’_ , he thought to himself and audibly growled into the quiet night.

He didn’t often hope for long droughts between missions, but _damn_ , he was so tired. It seemed like his teammates were just looking for ways to fill themselves with holes lately. His hands throbbed from stitching so much. His head pounded from worrying so much. His body ached from carrying heavy teammates out of harm’s way.

He sighed and tucked his chin into his chest, closing his eyes to take in the relative silence around him. (Military bases were never really quiet).

After a few moments, he heard footsteps in the gravel and snapped his head up quickly to scan his surroundings.

“If there are bad guys this close to our hut, then we are already in a world of trouble, McG,” Amir smiled as he approached, reacting to McGuire’s instinct to protect himself. McGuire grunted in amusement and yawned, “You okay?” Amir asked.

The taller man smiled sleepily, “Yeah, just so tired I can’t sleep.”

Amir chucked and sat next to his friend on top of the table.

“What are _you_ doing up?” McGuire asked, looking over at Amir.

“Ghosts.”

McGuire watched Amir look off in the distance, no further explanation for his strange answer. McG didn’t pry any further, instead looking down at his hands as he flexed the soreness out of them. His peripheral vision caught Amir glance at his hands, his face, and back down at his hands.

“They are just sore. Too much stitching lately,” McGuire assured him.

Amir had only been on the team for six weeks, but he and McGuire had developed a quick friendship, a circumstance for which Amir was deeply grateful. He quietly pondered the still newness of their friendship for a moment before deciding to go forward with his offer.

“I’m actually pretty good at hand massage,” he began, pointing his thumb at McGuire’s hands, “My sister was a pianist. Had to take care of her hands,” he finished, hoping the explanation would make it less of a strange statement for his new friend to hear.

“Was?”

“She passed.”

“Oh, I’m sorry,” McGuire said quietly, gazing at the smaller man’s dark, distant eyes flicker through memories.

“Thanks,” Amir smiled sadly, looking over at the other man, “So?” He held out his hand, palm up, inviting McGuire to offer his own.

McGuire hesitated for a second, unsure if it would be awkward, but then he thought, _‘oh screw it’_ , and held out his hands to Amir.

Amir smiled and turned toward McGuire, pulling one leg up onto the table. McGuire followed suit and faced him. He had a sudden thought that another soldier could walk by and wonder what the hell was happening on that picnic table at 3am, but quickly shook the fear from his mind. They were tucked back into a corner, under the cover of darkness, barely visible to any passersby.  
  
McGuire offered his hands again and Amir took them gently and squeezed. Then, he set down the left hand and focused only on the right hand. He applied gentle pressure at first all over the hand and then the wrist and forearm, increasing pressure as he continued.

It felt good. McGuire started to consider how he was going to request Amir do this all the damn time.

“She practiced four hours a day, at least. Sometimes she doubled that,” Amir said absentmindedly as he worked.

“Damn. That’s dedication.”

Amir chuckled but didn’t look up from his work, “She loved it. It was her whole world.”

Amir laid down the right hand and picked up the left and repeated his process, “She had long fingers, like you,” Amir glanced up at McGuire, anticipating a snarky remark. He found McGuire’s eyebrows raised, but he was clearly avoiding saying anything sarcastic.

“She took after father. I take after mother,” he held up one of his hands as he continued to hold McGuire’s, “mom is short with small hands, so…” He smirked and went back to work.

McGuire couldn’t help but chuckle out loud at Amir’s self analysis.

The two men sat in silence for a while as Amir continued to switch back and forth between McGuire’s hands as he worked. McGuire let himself zone out a bit, enjoying the relaxing massage.

After a bit, Amir quietly spoke, “Did you ever want a sibling?” McGuire refocused his attention on the man in front of him.

“Um, no I guess not really. I kind of liked my solitude. There were other kids on the Reservation that I played with sometimes.”

“Reservation?” Amir asked, looking up.

“I’m half Piegan. Blackfoot Confederacy,” he smiled, realizing that the newest team member hadn’t learned about McGuire’s heritage yet, “You saying you didn’t look us all up with your spycraftiness?”

Amir laughed quietly, “No, actually. I guess I could have. But, I wanted to learn about you all more organically.” McGuire chuckled. He liked Amir even more with that revelation.

“My mother is full blood Piegan, but we didn’t live on the Reservation. We lived with her adoptive parents, the McGuires,” McG continued.

Amir raised an eyebrow, “You’re not an actual McGuire!”

“Nope,” the taller man smirked, “I’m a pretender!” Amir chuckled and shook his head.

“Do you have a… _Pee-Gun_ ….name?” Amir asked, attempting to mimic the pronunciation of the word.

McGuire smiled, "Siksiká. That's the language: Siksiká. And my name is Ahanu.”

Amir stopped massaging, but didn’t let go of McGuire’s hand, looking into the other man’s dark eyes, “ _Ahanu_. What does it mean?” he asked, genuinely intrigued.

“ _He Who Laughs_. I was full of energy,” McGuire chuckled. Amir smiled, thinking to himself that the name was fitting and then realized he had stopped massaging. He looked down and started again.

“Feeling better?”

“Yes. Thank you,” McGuire said quietly.

Amir shifted from a deeper massage to a gentle touch to finish, sliding his hands over every inch of McGuire’s hands. He then set them down on McGuire’s legs and leaned back.

“Just let me know if you want another one sometime.”

“Thanks,” McGuire didn’t say it, but he was secretly happy to hear the offer, “I guess we should try to get some sleep. It will light before we know it.”

“Hataa alsabah, Ahanu,” Amir nodded slightly and stood from the table. McGuire followed, smiling at the way it sounded to combine Arabic and Siksiká.

“Xiskanyaawahsin, Amir,” McGuire responded and watched as Amir’s eyes widened with intrigue.

“You’ll have to teach me.”

“It hasn’t been all that useful in the field, to be honest,” McGuire chuckled as they walked toward the entrance to the hut. Amir laughed.

“Learning a language helps me to understand a person,” the shorter man revealed.

“Well, I’ll teach you, if you help me with my _eurbaa_ . _'iinaa bihajat 'iilaa musaeadat_ ,” McGuire responded, struggling to pronounce the Arabic words, “It’s hard.”

“You’re on, McGuire,” Amir smiled, “Goodnight.”

McGuire nodded in response and turned to his bunk door.

"And I'll try to require fewer stitches next time," Amir whispered.

McG chuckled and threw a smile at Amir before they retired to their respective rooms.

**Author's Note:**

> I apologize if the Blackfoot or Arabic is botched. I don't speak either, so I had to do a little research. I used Google Translate for the Arabic and I referred to several language sites and word lists for the Blackfoot.
> 
> "Hataa alsabah" should mean "Until Morning".  
> "Xiskanyaawahsin" should mean "When it is morning".  
> "'iinaa bihajat' iilaa musaeadat" should mean "I need help".
> 
> In my research, it was stated that men of the Blackfoot Confederacy tended to be tall and lean, which totally fits McGuire. There are four tribes that are part of the Blackfoot Confederacy. Three are in Canada and one is in Montana. Things got confusing at that point, but I think the Montana group is called Piegan. Again, forgive me (and educate me!) if I'm wrong. Thanks!
> 
> 5/10/19 update: I've since learned that the language is called Siksiká, so I added a line in the story to reflect that. :)


End file.
